


Palette

by moon_hedgehog



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fluff, Kisses, Light Angst, Multi, but with kisses!, it was meant to be about kisses but somehow it's just a bunch of ship drabbles :/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-08 14:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 10,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14107203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/pseuds/moon_hedgehog
Summary: In our life there is a single color, as on an artist's palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.(c) Marc Chagall





	1. Ginger | Sinnett/Pennebrygg

**Author's Note:**

> phew.  
> random number generator gave me headaches with all this prompts.  
> italicizing words has reached a peak here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths.

Sinnett was a mouse. Red-haired and freckled, wiry and slim, smiling and bright-eyed – but mouse. Being engaged in one of the most dangerous sciences in the whole Society, he nevertheless managed to remain quiet and inconspicuous. He loved his work and those people around him – and they probably loved and appreciated him. Only had grown up in a poor and dirty district of London, since childhood accustomed to giving the first places to children more stronger and noble, Sinnett behaved himself impossibly silent. As if he was not absent. As if he did not exist. As if the tears that he sometimes cried over the deceased family weren't his; and all that pain did not belong to him either.

 

Pennebrygg was louder. His movements were sharper and keener, almost like he himself was one of those machines he was building. He was also cursedly clever and devilishly charming. And with Sinnett they met often. At first, the main theme was a prosthesis. Pennebrygg could spend hours studying this amazing device, admiring and polishing it to shine. Then the presence of each other became an inexplicable need. With Pennebrygg you could be silent. This silence did not put pressure on your shoulders, as it was with other Lodgers – as if they were all expecting something from you. In the middle of the fiery, mechanic-filled madness, this silence was sleepy-soothing.

 

One day Pennebrygg saw Sinnett crying. Perhaps then he had understood what to do. Perhaps he knew this all his life. He walked over, lightly held the scientist's shoulders and pulled him into a kiss. To the impossibility calm and easy – like all their relationship, like everything that was before. Then he stepped back and murmured somewhere into Sinnett's thin lips:

“You're not alone.”

And the red-headed mouse smiled.


	2. Sallow | Lanyon/Griffin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed.

Dear _God_ , it was so stupid! Break into the best friend's office, blush like a roasted Christmas evening duck, squeeze out a crumpled misconfession and then fly back into the cold autumn night. Lanyon gritted his teeth. He's an idiot and he wants to order himself a tombstone as quickly as possible. And that means he needs to get drunk.

 

If really methodically pull down your life into pieces, then you should start with the cheapest and most affordable bar in London – thought Robert, stepping under the oak vaults. The sinister smell of alcohol and sweat had immediately hit the nose, the eyes watered by the pungent smoke hanging in the air. However, he did not intend to retreat. And a few minutes later beside the bar counter, he had completely absorbed in the general mood. Another few minutes later, a fragile white-haired man sat down nearby him, correcting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. By this time, the doctor had sobered up so that he could remember the familiar face exactly to the stammering question:

“Do I know you?”

The man grimaced and shrugged defiantly. Something was wrong with him, like a broken string this uneasy tension was reigning in his soul. Exactly the same string that cut off in Lanyon today.

“Does it matter?” the albino muttered sullenly, bowing his head to the side like a bird and squinting at the freckled opponent.

It doesn't.

 

His lips were terribly cold and dry, and kissing was unpleasant, but Robert did not care. He _wanted –_ unsplashed dissatisfaction dreamed to find a way out at least somehow. So it's no wonder that after a couple of seconds of incoherent conversation, the men found themselves in a dark room upstairs, furiously kissing and unbuttoning each other's jackets. Griffin – the name was painfully familiar, but, nevertheless, who cares – stumbled over a curbstone and hissed, but was quickly pressed to the wall and froze in anticipation, looking cautiously at Lanyon, who had torn himself away from him, breathing heavily. Everything was wrong. Everything was _so_ goddamn wrong.

“Well?”

Who cares about the rightness when all you want – to lay in the grave. Furthermore, this Griffin has horrifyingly beautiful eyes. So to hell with Jekyll. To hell with everything.


	3. Cerulean | Virginia/Archer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s.

“What?”

“What?”

Virginia chortled and shook her head, turning away. With his foolishly happy smile, disheveled hair and feverishly sparkling eyes – Archer was simply unbearable. All the morning he was heatedly pacing the Society's halls, not knowing where to put himself. Diligently disturbing Miss Rachel in the kitchen, running like a tail behind a fussing Luckett, almost climbing at the ceiling. At long last, he had just broken into the neo-alchemical laboratory, where the steam from the flasks was creating an uncommonly colored fog in the air. The joint project of Dr. Jekyll and Miss Ito had been boiling on the fire, and the doctor himself (who, for once, had decided to join his direct apprentice) showed five minutes with his fingers and bit his lip, choking a smile. Virginia sighed and flew out into the corridor.

 

If she'd known flowers better, she would certainly understand that these were orchids. In addition, deep blue colored. Archer hid them behind his back like a shy gentleman and dragging his lady of the heart out of her workplace, sharply handed her his oblation. Virginia took these few stalks… with caution.

“You know I'm working, what do you want?” She whispered, glancing sideways at the laboratory door.

The guy instinctively reached to his hair, swaying on the heels and toes. Ito was _not_ up to his worry.

“They say there's a new b-bakery by the Thames,” Archer babbled. “Want to go with me in the evening?”

She looked at him questioningly.

“Is this a date or what?”

Archer hesitantly bleated and began to sway more sharply. Virginia had soon caught blinks in her eyes and rubbed her forehead. It was necessary to agree or flee. Retreat faster than the wind.

“Well, I'm not-”

The man's mewing was interrupted when the girl stepped forward, suddenly embracing his shoulders and drawing him to her. Her lips were as if created for kisses – desperate and tenacious, absorbing into the seething depth of an ocean. Maybe she was its priestess. Maybe a goddess, breaking the ships swooping down to her into thousands of chips, right near the wonderful shores covered with sakura. The spicy-ginger aftertaste intoxicated in seconds.

“Consider it as a yes,” Virginia muttered, tearing herself away from the man and uncoupling her fingers swiftly behind his neck, pushing him back. A second later she dived back into the lab, with a slightly crumpled blue bouquet in her hand.

 

Although Mr. Archer was there for a long time, with a standing on end mohawk on his head and a stiffed glance. No, for all that, unlikely he'll ever get used to the fact that they're dating now.


	4. Pallid | Jekyll/Archer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • throwing their arms around the other person, holding them close while they kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst or what.

Jekyll had nightmares. There, in the inky-black night, were werewolves, piercing the thunderous skies with their silvery howling. There was an ugly, knotted forest, a gloomy thicket whipping the face with branches and grabbing the legs with roots. Phantom moths with rotting wings were sitting on the skin, gnawing into the lungs and flying out of the torn pharynx. Night after night, Henry choked on his own crimson blood, half-and-half with a broken cry and an emerald moon apathetically staring from above.

 

 _Tick-t_ _o_ _ck_.

The clock in his office was terribly nerve-wracking, and Archer had a quite reasonable question why Jekyll at least hadn't thrown it out. From the window.

The doctor himself stood to him with his back, shoulders and back tensed, eyes turned towards the rainy city. Just now Lanyon had come out from here – aggravated and angry, he poured a thousand and one problem on his friend's shoulders, related to the maintaining of the Society. Archer himself Robert at the same time had been actively trying to banish, but Henry's deathly tired, pleading glance assured him that he needed to stay. Only now he was deprived of this glance.

“Hey, how are you?”

Archer's quiet voice swept the room with a thunder, making him jump and bump into one of the shelves with books. Jekyll did not even turn around, and cursing through his teeth, the clockwork engineer went to him himself.

Gray, dull citizens were rushing through the streets, shuffling their boots along the pavement and hiding behind umbrellas. They, of course, had all the time in the world but were spending it on empty weather complaints.

“Look, I know now everything is not as good as you'd like...” Archer began, gently touching the doctor's shoulder. Only with tips of fingers, otherwise – he'll scare him like a vagrant puppy.

Henry took a deep breath, rubbed the bridge of his nose and turned to him. His heels clinked sonorously on the floor, left a tangy sediment in the reigning silence. The clockwork engineer swallowed, peering into the ruby eyes opposite. Too lifeless.

“You don't look good, you know,” he muttered, for which deserved a sudden laugh and a barely perceptible smile.

“Apparently you're right,” Henry exhaled, folding his arms over his chest. Only from whom he's defending?

 

With Jekyll it wasn't always easy, to blazing hell wasn't easy, to sleepless nights wasn't easy, to broken glass wasn't easy. He needed _someone_ – and from their very first meeting, Archer had realized that he was ready to become this someone. But even after letting the green-eyed engineer into his life, Henry remained the same – closed, icy and taciturn, dying under the weight of his own and others' problems. And Archer had enough of this. But didn't know what to do.

 

“Listen, I...” The man hesitated, shook the words on his tongue, and, Henry had noticed this, suppressed a swift wave of anger. “I'm here, you know, I’m not going anywhere...”

Jekyll opened his mouth absentmindedly, but did not have time to reply – Archer had run out of patience for further silence and leaned forward, sharply grabbing the doctor by the wrists and almost gently pulling on himself. There was something absolutely marvelous about when you were kissed so persistently and rudely, while simultaneously gently wrapped by the neck with hands and held very close. Henry's fatigue had finally knocked his knees, and he leaned against his partner, trying not to interrupt the kiss, but not having the strength to respond. Then Archer neatly stepped back, still supporting the doctor by the shoulders, glowing worry in the depth of his eyes.

“You have me, okay?”

Henry nodded weakly. All the same, Henry was already rotting off.


	5. Sunny | Rachel/Jasper, Jekyll&Hyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • hands on the other person’s back, fingertips pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that make them break the kiss with a gasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll&Hyde on the background is my ultimate aesthetic.

Rachel giggled. The doors of her kitchen were wide open, in the general dining room of the Society was reigning a real farce, and of course all this was led by Mr. Archer. In general, if something quite loud has been happening, it all was coming from the botanical clockwork engineer. Well, or from Mr. Hyde. However now he had nothing to do with this.

Today's topic of gossip was already far from new – or rather, it has been passing from Lodger to Lodger almost since the day the building had been completed. But only the presence of a newcomer in their company made these Lodgers re-savor and spread out all the details like a deck of cards. And this newcomer, of course, was Jasper. Completely embarrassed and confused, desperately blushing and stretching like a string, Jasper.

“Ah… But you sure we should talk about such things?..” His lost-plaintive voice flew to Rachel.

The hall had immediately exploded with loud cries of interrupting each other Lodgers, proving something to the poor werewolf. The black-haired girl bit her lip and peered from her place again. Yes, it was quite fun, but gradually it started to get out of control. Jasper was too innocent and naive for… everything. Maybe she should've intervened. And as soon as possible.

To Rachel's sudden happiness, Dr. Jekyll had appeared on the threshold of the dining room; and after him, as if on command, appeared a deathly silence. Mr. Helsby crossed himself shamefacedly. Archer squeezed out the wildest and brightest smile, casting glances at Virginia from the corner of his eye. And Jasper leaned back in his chair with a low sigh, and… caught Rachel's gaze.

 

“And… are they always like that?”

A small werewolf slid down the wall, correcting the rebellious strand behind his ear. That did not want to be corrected in any way.

Miss Pidgley smiled broadly, putting freshly cooked chocolate cookies – of which Mr. Hyde had asked her – into the oven. On any other day, she would have reacted to his so strange request with suspicion. Now she had too carefree mood.

“Like _what_?” She giggled, covering her mouth with her palm.

Slamming the oven and turning around, she saw a light blush on Jasper's cheeks. The werewolf had awkwardly clung to his own hand and looked away from her.

“Well… like _that_...”

“Bustling about other's people personal life?” Rachel prompted, dancing from one kitchen surface to another, folding the remainder of the dough into a bundle.

Kaylock nodded and seemed to claw into his hand even harder.

“Well yes, quite often,” the little Miss answered, thinking for a second. The werewolf's confusion was incredibly amusing – and it seems that she has already gotten rid of her unprecedented awkwardness, appearing at his presence.

“Ah… and… w-what does doctor Jekyll think about it?”

“I don't think he _thinks_ about it at all.”

“And Mister Hyde?”

For a fraction of a second, Rachel glanced at the oven's cookies, then shifted it to Jasper and walked closer, with her own hands correcting his strand of hair behind his ear.

“Maybe… he likes it, but honestly? - I don't know...” with a stone thoughtfulness on her face, the girl muttered.

 

Jasper was redder that ripe tomatoes that Rachel used to buy at the bazaar – but Miss still dragged him into the far corner and wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing like the last ninny. The world before her eyes was full of yellowish-red glints of joy and she didn't want this to end.

“No, but can you _believe it_?” she whispered rapturously in his ear. “What Virginia did yesterday, she literally made Henry make a promise-”

“Yes, yes, I know, let's be quieter,” the former werewolf pleaded, trying to keep his balance, but staggering disconsolately under the weight of a girl who was hanging on him.

“Oh, come on.” Rachel waved her hand. “Now I'm wondering what will Henry do...”

“I'm sure he and doctor Lanyon will come up with something,” Jasper shrugged, making Pidgley frown gloomily.

No, of course she did think that in the current Jekyll's state, it would be problematic to carry out this bet. But for the sake of all Mud Pheonixes of the world! As if she herself did not know the real relationship between the good doctor and his “assistant”. One kiss, in which Jekyll had later confessed to her (although being wildly drunk), was clearly not the end of the case. Speaking of kisses…

Rachel turned her head toward Jasper so that the poor scientist jumped involuntarily. Unfortunately, she was still holding his neck, so it wasn't possible to dodge for the poor man. With one quick movement, she lurched forward, caught his surprisingly soft lips and smashed him into a terribly superficial, but incredibly sunny kiss. The same sunny amperage pierced her veins and heart. But Kaylock staggered and reached for her neck with his fingers, losing his balance. And those fingers were _ogmygodtoocold_. Rachel gasped and tore a kiss: unfortunately, late – Jasper collapsed to the floor, dragging her after, and a second later she was already lying right on him, choking with laughter.


	6. Daffodil | Hyde/Archer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst or what [2].

_This impenetrable idiot, fidgety fool, crazy dumbhead!_

Archer pulled himself by the hair forcibly, hissing curses through his teeth. Yeah, he was awfully mad. Today Flowers had brought to the Society a huge deranged Venus flytrap, and this flytrap almost devoured Mr. Hyde who had fearlessly rushed to get out of its grasp this stupid dead dog Zosi. Almost having fallen into the mouth of the predator himself, in the end, he managed to wriggle out, leaving the plant to chew his coat. And when Archer, with wild worrier on his face, had dragged him into the corner and shouted out loud for his insane bravery, Hyde simply bucked, broke from his grasp and left. And if it was a first time, the engineer wouldn't have been so worried. But recently the blond began to do stupid things one by one as if he wanted to stand out or prove something to someone. Something that the mere mortals like Archer couldn't understand.

 

Apparently, his whole life, from some very specific point, had gone downhill. Archer still remembers how he was wiping away the wet paths on Henry Jekyll's cheeks – the next morning he was coldly thrown out of the door with a French goodbye. A few days later he found himself on a small, cozy bed in Soho, next to a green-eyed night spirit grumbling to the whole world. And with him it was fun, free and simple – as it should be. He could've been persistently clamped in the corners during the work hours; with him, on the roofs, you could admire the stars glinting from behind the smog, you could laugh to the colic in the stomach and steal the cookies from the kitchen, hearing behind your back the indignant exclamations of the cook. He didn't need to be supported and you didn't need to draw a smile on his face.

But Archer didn't understand if he was really happy at least once.

 

“Edward.”

Hyde growled and rolled over to his other side, padding the blanket under him. Archer grunted and sat up, ruffling his own hair. Today they seem to have fallen asleep in his little room, in the attic of the Society; the sun here hardly penetrated through the tiny dirty window, throwing fanciful glares on the floor. The specks of dust broke into pairs, waltzing in the air and shining with a thousand shades of yellow. It was snugly here – because it was home.

“Edward, don't you need to get up?”

In reply, the blond only harrumphed ambiguously, calling a wide grin on his lover's face. Archer chuckled and leaned over to Hyde, turning him and observing the twisting sparks of discontent in his lazily opening eyes.

“Lay off,” Edward muttered after the clockwork engineer had quickly pecked him on the lips.

This was followed by a series of lightest – like feathers – kisses covering the cheeks, neck and bare shoulders of the London spirit. When Hyde had finally gotten tired of it, he brazenly shoved Archer from himself and turned away again.

“Listen, is something going on? I...” The words got stuck in his throat for a second. He could've sworn that he knew them all too well. That spoke them very often. “I'm near and I'm not going anywhere, and if you need-”

“I don't need anything,” Edward croaked with suddenly dropped voice, sitting abruptly on the bed and hugging his knees with his hands. Archer opened his mouth. Then closed. _Heck_. He was so tired.

“Everything's fine?”

Of the thousands of questions, he chose the most miserable one. Swapping those who had swapped him, he's spending his life on the false smiled to Bird and banal quotes about love. Not noticing that inside he has already long been gutted like a stray cat, found by dirty street children.

 

Hyde rose his head and looked into his eyes.

“Absolutely.”


	7. Taffy pink | Doddle/Tweedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing.

“It's the third time in a week,” Doddle mumbled softly, sailing past Tweedy and kissing his hair at the same time.

The Galvanic engineer produced a new, long groan full of immense yearning for the burned in a fiery hell equipment, and collapsed onto a chair, folding his hands on a tiny desk and falling his head on them. Doddle's laboratory – in which they were now – looked more like a cozy little shop with sweets; here and there, colorful lollipops were flashing in the light, the bouffant cakes were flaunting on the upper shelves, and the non-melting ice cream balls were hanging directly over the laboratory racks. However, all this couldn't be eaten – and remembering the case with a transformation of Griffin's cat into a lamb, even the omnipresent Mr. Hyde didn't dare to look in here. Basically, the only person who looked in here _at all_ was Tweedy. The rest preferred to intersect with Doddle outside of his darling-looking, but dangerous inside habitation.

“It's all Pennebrygg's fault,” the galvanist said, raising his left hand in an indefinite gesture. “If he hadn't asked me to 'experiment' with his new invention, nothing would have happened. My precious Celestine” here his voice rose into a higher and more solemn “wouldn't burn!”

Doddle gently chuckled and shook his head, rearranging the box with disappearing candies to its proper place.

“When will you stop giving names to _all_ your lamps?”

“You know it's not just lamps! It's-”

“Yes of course. It's a future, a future of all mankind.” Doddle turned to another man, shaking off the fairy pollen that had flown from above from his apron. Apparently, he should've closed the bank denser. “You're telling me this a thousand time already, dear.”

Tweedy sighed, propping his chin with his hand, with a completely unhappy expression on his face.

“Jekyll will ask me why the lightning in the main hall has stopped working. Again.”

“But it's not your fault.” The red-haired man approached closer, placing before the engineer a cup of pinkish-shiny tea. “Drink, it should cheer up.”

“Should?” Tweedy askew warily, taking the object in his hands and twisting it in all directions. It smelled like roses, sugar syrup and something else, much more sweeter. God, he would never drink it from any hands…

After a second he had already tried the strange taste of the drink on his tongue.

 

“What are you looking at?”

Rachel jumped and hid her hands behind her back, stretching out. Mrs. Cantilupe had emerged from nowhere, taking a place on the girl's right side.

“Nothing...”

Mr. Tweedy had burst into the dining room with a triumphant cry, rushed to the lonely seated Mr. Doddle and loudly smacked him on the top of his head. Then he jumped on the nearest table and, actively gesticulating, began to explain the meaning of his new discovery to all those present. Doddle himself only slowly stirred the sugar in a tea mug with a spoon, practically not lifting his head, but nodding unnoticeably to the accompaniment of the engineer's words.

“Nothing at all.”

Lord, Rachel even forgot that they had come to the Society _together_.


	8. Lapis | Bird/Bryson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward.

All these gossips did not touch Bird at all. He got used to being a lone knight, defending unique exemplars of flowers with a power of his amiable, disarming smile. He got used to listening to Archer's endless whining about the beauty and grace of Virginia Ito. He got used to falling the conversations plying the Society's building on deaf ears, remaining naive and ignorant of the Lodgers' personal life.

And yet, when this very Archer had burst into their laboratory with a loud cry “I have news for you!”, for the first time in his life, Bird lifted the shackle of his glasses interestedly.

 

“And what are you planning to do?”

Archer shivered, pulling the cloak over his shoulders and pushing the gray cylinder over his eyes. London was cold, damp and foggy – however, nothing unnatural. Bird walked beside him – he was dressed in a decent beige suit and carelessly twirled his mustache. And the result of their trip to the strange bazaar that had come to the city was a pot, hidden under the armpit of horticulturalist, with a black tulip decorated with ornaments of constellations on petals. A worthy exemplar for the Society.

“Do? My friend, what are you talking about?”

The engineer rolled his eyes, but quickly rested his gaze on his own hat and crossly sniffed his nose. As if it wasn't him, his best friend, who had been talking at him for the whole yesterday on the fact that Mr. Hyde had started a rumor about the possible appearance of “someone” in the life of their main crypto-horticulturalist. As if it wasn't him who should've taken these ridiculous suspicions from Bird now.

“You remember perfectly well what I'm talking about!” Archer croaked hoarsely, wrapping himself tightly in a farcical scarf that Virginia had lent him. Damn no, he didn't want to get sick!

Bird responded to this hit with a calm smile.

“Archer, you shan't be so suspicious of Mister Hyde and everything he says.”

A botanical clockwork engineer harrumphed. And around the corner, meanwhile, had shown itself the building of the Society for Arcane Sciences, and Bird fastened his steps, heading straight to the main gates.

Archer took a few minutes to fully realize with what he had just been answered.

 

In this part of the building was a terrible lot of air balloons. Their father and creator – the famous Nicholas D. Bryson – was sitting on a small marble bench, on the right side of Mr. Bird. Near them was quietly settled Zosimus, wrapping a black pot with a new unusual flower with a short tail.

“Have you already decided how to call it?” Bryson asked, imperceptibly taking Bird's hand in his and glancing around the deserted hall.

Bird shook his head. And taking advantage of such a rare opportunity to be alone, the aeronaut dragged him into a sharp, desperate kiss. Quite fast. Finished with their foreheads bent to each other and their eyes closed.

“Then I suggest Celebrationem amoris. The name as beautifully evident as a proof of our love.”

 

But for Archer, hovering around the corner and involuntarily watching the whole unfolding scene, damn nothing was evident.


	9. Azure | Lavender/Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other.

For Flowers, Lavender has always been the strangest clockwork. A tiny silver butterfly with azure wings and thin antennae. An ideal set of gears, smelling vanilla and lilac petals. A work of art by the hand of an unknown master. The features of her face with French elegance loomed against the dark blue sky when in the evenings she released moon fireflies into the flight. Hiding in the twilight of marble columns and watching her unnoticeably, Flowers ran a pencil on the yellowish sheet of her notebook and under her hand appeared thick curls and fluffy eyelashes. Sometimes Lavender sang. Looking at the aquamarine-white dots flickering in the air, she quietly-quietly sang an old lullaby on the interlacing language. Flowers couldn't know words, but always silently sang along the flowing melodies, covering her eyes.

Working with strange, dexterous creatures, for Flowers Lavender was not a resident of this world. No, she was a star or a fragment of a sparkling comet: with her night hair, glasses in a snow-white frame and coffee lips. She made an amazing tea, which leaves a taste of strawberries and lilacs on the tongue. She wore her working dress with the grace of the muse that touches the strings with her graceful fingers.

She was amazing. And, perhaps, Flowers was in love with her for a very, very long time.

 

“What are you doing here?”

The entomologic intelligencer jerked and dropped the box from her hands. It fell on a floor with a knock, right under the feet of so malapropos entered Lavender. Something clattered inside for last and then subsided. Flowers swallowed, involuntarily backing from the table on which she had wanted to leave the thing.

“N-nothing, I just...” but was she really going to lie? No, it's time for Flowers to finally show some courage. “I wanted to leave it here, while you… Generally, it's a gift.”

A soft smile lit up Lavender's face with a ray of sunlight. She bent down and picked up the box, coming closer to Flowers and gently twirling it in her hands, fingering the roughness on the lid. There were tiny, blue and yellow flowers painted in watercolors, woven into a bizarre bouquet and disintegrated into thousands of separate pieces.

“A gift? For me?” Lavender asked, looking up at her friend, making her heart to beat for a hundredth of a second more often.

Flowers nodded and pointed awkwardly at the gilded metal clasp.

“Open it, please.”

Clack! Having followed her request, the woman pulled the clasp up and with one light movement threw open the lid. Inside, on a bed of yellow velvet was laying a small brooch. In a shape of a silvery butterfly with sparkling sapphires on the tips of the wings.

“It's beautiful!” Lavender exclaimed, gently taking the outlandish decoration in her hand and touching each stone with the tips of her fingernails.

“Just like you,” whispered Flowers.

And after realizing what she had said, she gasped and blushed, hiding her lips in her hands. Lavender turned to her, still with a smile on her face an in her eyes. She was too beautiful to not take the advantage of the moment. And for the only time in her life, Flowers allowed herself to fall.

 

She cast aside all the disturbing thoughts back and met the soft lips opposite. The kiss was brief like a bird flying past a window, barely perceptible at the tips of the mouth. It couldn't mean anything. And it probably didn't.

But Lavender threw the brooch away on the table, and, suddenly, pulled Flowers closer, burying her lips with a deeper and more passionate kiss. Flowers gasped. How incongruous was her idea of this woman as a fragile moon lady with what she really was. After all, if she had anything to do with celestial… then she was only a deafeningly passionate starfall.


	10. Henna | Virginia/Lavender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maedoc is probably a little Jasper's dragon.

Virginia had already failed to look away from Lavender. Her active gesticulation, feverishly shining eyes, the hem of her dress soaring up in the air – all this captivated the woman to the impossible desire to pick up her Miss in her arms and take them to their rooms. She bit her lip, slowly exhaling through the nose. It was definitely not the time, because the Grand Exhibition was at stake and Lavender couldn't afford to forget the preparations for her own performance.

Or could she? At least for a minute?..

 

“Stop it, Virgie,” the woman laughed as her lover pushed her into the far corner of the hall, hiding them from extraneous curious people.

Virginia covered her eyes and purred like a satisfied, happy cat, almost licking from anticipation. Before Lavender could catch her breath, her lips were covered with another. Virginia always kissed strictly, like a tiny samurai of which she often told. Her kisses were sharp, sucking out the soul, preventing to come off. But Lavender liked it. She liked that this cold and sharp became hers. When she pulled away, Lavender looked up at her – the eyes of the potion master were full of satisfaction.

“You, impudent!” Lavender squeaked, nudging the girl on the shoulder and looking desperately from her plump lips. No, think about the Exhibition. You shouldn't let Maedoc scorch the crowd. You shouldn't-

However, to hell with this. The Exhibition can wait a couple of minutes – it's not her turn yet soon, and Maedoc is perfectly trained by Jasper. A few more seconds Lavender looked directly at the lips of this very impudent, weighing the last pros and cons. As a result of the outcome all of her bastions had fallen, and she tilted forward first, making the other woman to almost snidely raise an eyebrow, giggling directly into the ensuing kiss.

Oh, but Virginia Ito really did know how to steal others' hearts.


	11. Translucent | Archer/Griffin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-“ and they answer by kissing them more.

It wasn't a matter of one time. Relationship – what a remarkably strange word – of Archer and Griffin had begun, it seemed, long time before one evening when one of them simply dragged the other into an empty lab and laid him out on the table. And after that evening something had stopped – like a broken clock that lonely engineers unsuccessfully trying to fix, twirling gears in their hands. Near to Griffin became cold – it was like he absorbed the stuffiness and heat of the shaking Society, giving only damp and frost. Archer tried to follow him, tried to get into his rooms and tried to catch by the thin elbow – but each time that pale ghost was slipping from him and dissolving in the shadows of the dark corridors. And over and over again missing Griffin, Archer could only think about what had happened wrong. Why from quit laughs and smoking pipes on the roof of the building, why from squishing shoes and hurrying holding hands, why from “I will return this book to you as soon” and “you mustn't return” - their common road had reduced to one night and disintegrated after? Lavender brewed him her signature tea, soothingly patting his shoulder.

But it wasn't a matter of one time.

 

Griffin found him near one of the stained-glass windows in the southern part of the building – and God, Archer looked like he was spending days and nights locking himself in his own rooms and working on a new mechanism. Not that this _really_ couldn't happen.

“What did you want?”

The engineer's eyes were wrapped in a sleepy shroud – it was a deep night in the outside, and human biorhythms were still making themselves felt. Griffin had instinctively reached to touch up his glasses, but stopped halfway, dropping his hand.

“To apologize.”

Archer raised an eyebrow half amazedly half, apparently, sarcastic, but stayed where he was. Refracting through the multicolored glass, the moonlight had faintly illuminated the tips of Griffin's shoes when he came closer. He should speak. But-

“Forgive me, sometimes I'm an idiot,” the man breathed, raising his eyes and meeting the gaze opposite. “I didn't mean to push you away. I didn't want to... leave you.” He winced, trying a salty word on his tongue. “I was confused. I forgot how it is when...”

Archer squinted and licked his dry lips. He took a short step forward, toward the white-haired one.

“When what?”

Griffin smiled faintly.

“When you fall in love with someone.”

It was enough and not at all at the same time – unlikely Archer thought about this. He wanted to kiss this cold, impregnable and utterly intolerable idiot – so that what he did. Griffin froze for a moment, stunned, not answering, like a statue staring at the guy in front of him. When the kiss tried to go deeper and grow into something completely different, he undied and abruptly pulled away, trying to gather strength and find breath.

“W-wait, I...” Archer licked his lips again and Griffin jerked his hand gloomily. “I'm sorry, are you sure you-”

The answer was a new persistent touch on his own lips and a shining sparkle in his partner's green eyes. Yes, Griffin was an idiot. But Archer, probably, had never been so sure of anyone else.


	12. Sepia | Hyde/Jasper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • a hoarse whisper “kiss me”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst or what [3].

Mr. Hyde was an unbearable parvenu. Jasper had understood this from the moment when he first saw him – a small and terribly thin, straggly and with excitedly sparkling eyes. He brought Frankenstein and her creation, he led the Lodgers to the battle against Moreau; and it was he who saved Jasper from one the mad scientist's monsters. Of course the young werewolf was incredibly grateful to him, because in the light of fire his savior looked almost like a heavens' herald.

Less than a week later, he realized that he couldn't get rid of obsessive thoughts about this Mister… The latter was awfully secretive and appeared on the eyes quite rarely. Rachel had said – _Edward_ Hyde had never visited the building during the day, preferring a night shift; you'll never see _Edward_ Hyde near Doctor Jekyll; there are many various rumors about _Edward_ Hyde. Jasper drew a picture in his head, which, perhaps, didn't correspond to reality at all; but Jasper was young and childishly naive-

So one night, having caught _Edward_ Hyde in the hall, he followed him to the night London. He was scrambling bravely on the shingles of city rooftops, flooded by moonlight ink. He was hiding in the shadows of the spears that hung loomily above the sidewalks. He tried to keep up. And by dawn, he very quietly and very harshly (and very hoarsely) asked _Edward_ Hyde:

“Kiss me.”

But Mister Hyde only grinned and left.

 

Mr. Hyde was an unbearable parvenu. And Jasper was nightmarishly in love with him.


	13. Tawny | fem!Hyde/Rachel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • following the kiss with a series of kisses down the neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're my Victorian lesbian daughters now.

“Oh, stop it! You're behaving simply unacceptable!”

“But that's what you love in me, don't you?”

Rachel giggled, turning away from one brazen person who had broken her peace. And if specifically, from devilishly cute Miss Hyde, whose bright green eyes sparkled in the light of the sun coming from the window. The blonde from the very _morning_ was preventing the cook from fully doing her duties, getting tangled under her feet, and sticking her nose in everything. And it was just impossible to endure – no, not then when this very blonde had damn long legs with black men's trousers and a gold-embroidered waistcoat with a snow-white shirt from below, leaving the sleeves high-fitted and fastened. Absolutely not then.

“You know, I need to prepare for a banquet.” Rachel turned away from her temptress, adjusting a strand of hair and rattling the plates in the kitchen. “Dr. Jekyll...”

“Can wait,” Eduarda brushed off, wincing at the mention of the employer. “Damn, he has a lot of other servants – do you think he's not going to organize all this without you?”

Miss Pidgley took a deep breath and shook her head. No, she would never understand Hyde's strong dislike of Jekyll. Especially considering that the first was a personal assistant of the latter and the second main person in the Society!

“Look, I really want to go home, too,” Rachel murmured, hiding a deep pot in the bottom drawer. “But Jekyll _really_ needs my help and I has already promised him that I would do it, so-”

“But I can always change your mind~”

Rachel jumped when she heard this rumbling voice very close, feeling a warm breath on her neck. She turned sharply – and only to meet face to face with Miss Hyde, dangerously smiling at her not only with her lips but also with her eyes. The girl secondarily and bluntly stepped forward and the cook didn't even have time to squeak as she was dragged into a deep, almost passionate kiss. Although rather it would've been passionate if Rachel had answered a little. But she clenched her teeth with the persistence of a sheep. End to end, Eduarda had no choice but to break away from her girlfriend with a displeased wheeze and shift to her neck, covering it with light kisses. If she'd leave a hickey there, Rachel would have killed her. And Miss Hyde hadn't dared to risk her life so badly.

The cook gasped, slinging to the table behind her. O no, she will never succumb to the persuasion of this shameless blonde cat. She doesn't even have to try. It won't work. She promised Jekyll and she will keep her word! Yes, definitely… Well, maybe a little later.


	14. Periwinkle | Sinnett/Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • starting with a kiss meant to be gentle, ending up in passion.

One, two, three words – I love you – but how hard it is to utter them. Flowers chewed her cheek, trailing by the entrance to Sinnett's laboratory, twirling one of her mechanical insects in her hands. Yesterday Lavender was all evening persuading her to finally come to the red-haired Lodger and tell about her feelings. Not that Flowers blamed her – in the end, it wasn't her who buzzed her friend all ears about how Sinnett is a) brave b) kind c) cute, and so on, according to the list of all the virtues of the world. But simply just coming to him and saying these things aloud – no, that's too much. Flowers shivered. And why did she even listen to Lavender?

Turning on her heels and mentally planning a retreat plan, the woman lowered her eyes to the ground and took a step. The next step was interrupted by the bumping into something solid, and Flowers ouched, flapping her eyelashes and raising her head. It was Sinnett. Of course, it was Sinnett – it was still nearby the doors of his workplace! He blinked, staring at the sudden visitor.

“Flowi? What are you doing here?”

The woman blushed, hiding her hands with the insect behind and nervously fingering the mechanical wings.

“Be like steel,” Lavender had instructed her. Oh!

“N-nothing like that,” squeaked Flowers. “Just… just, uh, walking… Yes, I'm strolling around...”

Sinnett raised an eyebrow and, apparently, had a blush. Although perhaps it only seemed so to Miss Flowers. She couldn't say for sure.

 

Sinnett almost weightlessly drew her by the waist; like a fragile flower which she was. Flowers didn't want to lie – yes, it was her who reached for the kiss first– gentle-gentle, like a velvet leaves of daisies. It was strange and it was fun, but at the end, when the lungs had started to burn from the lack of oxygen, she wanted more. Much more, therefore, withdrawing for a split second, she reached out to him again; and the next kiss was much more humid and passionate.

So much time had passed since the day she was nervously staying before him, biting her lip and diverting her gaze. Now Sinnett was gently pressing her to himself, embracing – and perhaps everything was perfect. After all, sometimes words “I love you” are simply unnecessary.


	15. Rosewood | Jekyll/Jasper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst or what [4].

Dr. Jekyll was much more courteous than Mr. Hyde. He didn't begin to destroy Jasper's dreams ( _initially_ ), didn't begin to trample down his feelings into the dirt ( _at first_ ). He had seemed exemplary, and charming, and intelligent, and graceful – and in general, all this at once was the thing that had made little werewolf blush like a nine-year-old girl, peeping at the good doctor from the dark corners. Jasper didn't want to be obtrusive. For Jasper, his whole new life in this house – full of giant octopuses and huge air balloons, exploding mechanical animals and invisible mice – was still too new and unusual. _Everything_ was too new and unusual – even trying to show a maximum friendliness Rachel, baking him cherry pies and chocolate cookies. He tried, as could, to be useful – in the kitchen, helping the Lodgers, catching the elusive white cat. Only that's unlikely that walking on the heels of the Society's founder was included in the list of useful things.

But the charming smile was the devil's gentleman's fault.

 

Dr. Jekyll was much more kinder than Mr. Hyde. He let Jasper admiringly glance at the way he buttoned and shook off shirts; he let Jasper bite his neck; he let Jasper whisper quietly-quietly “I love you”, almost patronizingly kissing back. He let him adore and that's all that was necessary to Kaylock. A little wolf – who, despite all the potions in the world, couldn't be thrown out to the end – inside him sang, eagerly clinging to the ground and wagging his tail when he was looking at the one he loved. On his eternal moon and the king of the wild prairies.

Seeing him once, Mrs. Cantilupe had stated that he was hopelessly in love with someone whose story is too tangled for anyone to love. Jasper was surprised. But shrugged it off.

 

Dr. Jekyll was much more beautiful than Mr. Hyde. _Jasper could argue with this because he still remember_ _ed_ _how his first love's eyes were shining in the moonlight._ He didn't. But Dr. Jekyll had smelled of a spicy mint and hot black tea. And thousands of different things that the former werewolf couldn't give a name. He never smelled him, though. But sometimes on his lips could be caught the barely noticeable smell of sandalwood. Jasper was recalling it only the next mornings.

One day, however, he had gone into the doctor's office too early. Too early witnessed something that would never have been able to accept and ran away, stumbling on steps. He could've heard him out. But when he saw the ruby eyes changing their color into an emerald, all Jasper's trust and love had dug into his heart with black spikes.

 

Dr. Jekyll was much more _deceitful_ than Mr. Hyde.


	16. Carmine | Sinnett/Luckett

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead.

'My love for you is hotter than all sparks.'

A note with this kind of content Sinnett had found on his bed. At first, he squinted. Then he frowned. He hadn't had the faintest idea who, for the sake of saints, of all the Lodgers could throw him such thing. No, of course, he could've immediately gone to Virginia Ito (to whom everyone used to go when they had even the slightest problem). But apparently, the curiosity of the scientist did not want to cooperate with anyone else – and he went in search of an unknown fan alone.

 

Bird was no need to ask. Archer just raised an eyebrow – he hadn't heard of any notes, but no, wait, it could be a perfect sign of attention for Virginia! Maijabi mysteriously smiled. Griffin was too busy with getting the cat off the top shelf. Helsby stretched his mouth in a wild grin, and Sinnett had to hurry off, defending such an important document with his own chest. Lavender shrugged her shoulders; Cantilupe whispered “oh, but is not it obvious, dear?”, but refused to answer any additional questions. One of Pennebrygg's robots had almost succeeded in Helsby's case, trying to snatch a note from the pyrologist, but his creator managed to come in time. Mosley followed the example of Lavender. Tweedie and Doddle fell away at once. Flowers hesitated and blushed, but shook her head. Bryson didn't understand the question but tried to demonstrate to Sinnett his improved balloon. Twice. Coming to Henry Jekyll was more costly. And to bother Edward Hyde – even more.

In the end, remained only Virginia – to whom he still had to go. And Luckett.

 

“And why do you think it could _no_ _t_ be Luckett?”

Virginia raised her eyebrow, while was simultaneously listening to Sinnett and witchly stirring a new potion.

The pirologist sighed.

“'Cause he… He wouldn't do that. I thought, maybe I had another 'wooer' here. But Luckett – it's not in his style.”

Ito huffed. Then shook her head.

“Maybe he decided to change his style and become more romantic.”

Sinnett frowned.

 

The frown on his face hadn't gone away and when Mr. Luckett, himself, had appeared on the threshold of his room, with a bouquet of almost-wilted, but still scarlet roses behind him. Frown hadn't disappeared even when Sinnett slowly began to blush, while Luckett was gently pecking him with childish kisses on the nose and lips. And certainly, it hadn't lost when they were sitting together by the huge window, listening to the noise of the night London outside and the puffing of a big building inside.

“Luckett, you and I have been a couple for two years now, tell me what's come over you?” Sinnett muttered, burying his nose in the roses and stroking the stems with an autonomous hand.

But on this, the detonative homeopath only grinned.


	17. Blush | Lanyon/Hyde & Jekyll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • height difference kisses when one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, who wanted the polyamorous ship - because it's exactly with what i ended up.

“Oh, get off!”

Mr. Hyde spat affrontedly and folded his hands on his chest, defending. Lanyon was a disgusting, conceited, narcissistic and miserable-

The next moment Lanyon kissed him.

“You!” Hyde waved his hands, pushing the second man away from himself and snorting discontentedly. “Are you going to leave me alone or not?”

“No,” making a sudden accent on this simple word, Robert answered, stepping on the blond. “I don't even have in mind to leave you alone, _Dr. Jekyll_.”

Edward narrowed his eyes. Not only that Lanyon had been torturing him all night long (they had slept about four times in a row, and to be honest, Hyde wasn't sure how he was still on his feet), he, moreover, obviously didn't plan to let him go at dawn. As a minimum in the plans of this idiot was to kiss the London spirit to death. About the maximum, this same London spirit generally was trying not to think.

All in all, Edward's left fist was confidently intercepted. Lanyon sharply drew him closer and pressed to himself, not letting go, bending over to kiss the lover's top.

“You! - and Jekyll! You both just pissed me!” dodging the next kiss, Hyde complained achingly. “He's or always whining that he has to sort out one and a thousand tax, or drags me to bed, because, you see, he can't sleep alone!” Edward ruffled up and his hair had bristled like a hedgehog's thorns. Lanyon sniffed, choking off the upcoming giggle, and managed to kiss him again.

“And you! - you- Hey, stop already, I'm trying to talk to yo-”

Before the blond succeeded in getting out of his hands, the doctor had presented him with a new bunch of sonorous smacks, from which in Hyde's head began ringing. Slipping to the floor and curling into a vicious ball, Edward could only think about how he endlessly fed up. Eternally tired Jekyll eternally tiredly whined and sang to him ballads of love; eternally happy Lanyon eternally happily laughed and carried to him gigantic bouquets of flowers. From all this luscious sugarness it was just right to rush out the window, but since he and Henry _still_ occupied one body, it was not even an option. Considering all this, Edward had to get used to the fact that he was almost carried on hands.

Robert crouched beside him, gently stroking the angry kitten through his hair. The “kitten” hissed.

“I can't even take a peaceful fling at night, because in a few days Jekyll has an exhibition and he knocks out right on the desktop. And you're not even thinking about helping him!”

Lanyon winced and get Edward up.

“I'm sorry. Issues with father-”

“I've already heard that!” Hyde barked, making his lover to jump and blurt out in a nervous smile. “Believe me, for the whole of last night I've understood perfectly well that you have _another_ issues with your father, but if you're not going to discharge Henry at least a _little_ , he'll die by the end of the week – and I am, please note, with him!”

Robert jerked his head as a slinky and folded his hands in a prayerful gesture; with the same pleading eyes, he looked at Hyde. The latter had drilled him with hatred for a while, then sighed, surrendering.

“I'm leaving,” he cut off firmly. “You're helping Jekyll. All clear?”

Lanyon nodded but clearly didn't intend to remove his pleading look. Edward sighed.

“Uh, what else do you want?”

“One kiss? The last?” Robert squeaked very subtly, making Hyde to almost put his hand to his face.

Anyways. Deny the two most important people in his life, Edward could never. So he rose to his tiptoes and pulled this cornstalk on himself, gently kissing him for the last. Jekyll's quiet voice had whispered something indistinct, but obvious, and Hyde jumped back abruptly; and, waving to Robert at parting, threw himself out of the door, puffing like after the run of the whole London.

He, of course, was very fond of two idiots who absolutely adored him. But sometimes they were just unbearable.


	18. Viridescent | Jekyll/Hyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [when it's finally your gays.](https://www.meme-arsenal.com/memes/18070eab7478e1553f3ac696d9eea49f.jpg)

In Jekyll's head was spinning only one thought.

Hyde had sat himself cosily on his lap, practically wrapping his legs around him and throwing his hands behind his neck; and most importantly – he completely hadn't let him sort all the reports. His flowing with aquamarine paints features resembled waves. Same cold and beautiful. Alluring. Jekyll absolutely did not remember the night when he realized that he had split himself in two. But he had never felt himself whole anymore. Within him now lived a separate person – with his own demands and desires. His own unbearable character. And his own unearthly, astonishing beauty. In all senses.

“You're spending too much time with Lanyon,” Hyde drawled, pouting like a small child.

Henry smiled. Mister Spirit of night London was actually a terrible kitten, clutching to his master with claws and hissing at strangers. Impossibly jealous, damn cute kitten.

“You know he's the co-founder of the Society. I even _hypothetically_ can't spend less time with him,” Henry answered, stretching himself up to sit more comfortably, simultaneously pulling one of Hyde's strands behind his ear and throwing a sad glance at the desk, littered with reports. Work today is no longer possible, it was crystally clear.

“What work, Henry, it's the night outside,” Edward clicked a good doctor on the nose and he jumped up and laughed softly. Well yes. The collective mind hadn't been canceled yet. “Besides, this your Lanyon,” he continued the good-old song, “I don't like the way he looks at you.”

Jekyll cocked an eyebrow sarcastically. It's unlikely that such sarcasm would have lingered in him for long – the light of a table lamp was shading Mr. Hyde's features, and the darkness was sharping his cheekbones; and of course, Henry had caught himself in a vague thought that with that all, he wouldn't last long. He swallowed.

“And how does he… looks at me?” croaked the doctor, praying to all Gods to put his voice in order.

Fortunately, Edward didn't notice anything. Or pretended he didn't, so as one day to blackmail him with the fact that Henry loses all his composure when he's with his supposed alter ego alone. That if Edward had asked him, he would throw the whole world to his feet. Destroy himself in order to allow him to live fully.

“Oh, he wants you,” Hyde said innocently, receiving a muffled laugh. “And he's hopelessly in love with you since college. Have not you noticed?”

Jekyll shook his head, biting his lip to either not laugh or not break ( _the belt of planets was spinning in Hyde's eyes, tiny galaxies collided and scattered into the dust_ ). Lanyon was… a friend. And never something more. Even if he had been feeling something to Jekyll, he was silent and tried to accept everything. Mr. Hyde – the suddenly appeared assistant – he did not accept. But seeing his friend with a happy smile on his face, he'd been understanding enough to not get into his case.

“Well, you haven't noticed, but I noticed,” Edward remarked almost joyfully, squinting like a predator who received a serving of milk in a saucer.

“How noticeably you are,” Henry muttered, burying his fingers in the wheat chevelure and fingering the single strands. Edward had instantly relaxed, trustingly purring and letting to do with himself whatever the brunett's soul wanted. And if Dr. Henry Jekyll would've missed such a moment, he would never forgive himself.

So he accurately stretched up and caught the lips opposite in a kiss. He didn't know what he wanted to express – his infinite adoration on a fine line with worshiping, a burning desire or a sweet tenderness that permeated every bone in his body. In Jekyll's head was spinning only one thought.

“I love you.”

And coming off of Edward Hyde, he uttered it aloud.


	19. Clay | Helsby/Mosley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing.

“Yes, yes, everything is understood – you're busy with the most important business and you cannot be distracted, and-”

And Helsby whined it for the tenth time in a day, in an endless circle. Mosley was tired. He sincerely tried to fix a tiny timer for Virginia, which she entrusted to him, citing the fact that she couldn't trust anyone else. Even Archer – who is likely to break it at all. But Mosley, moreover, was trying to repair his own submarine, crumbling from the last 'adventure'. So there was absolutely no benefits in additional lamentations over his soul. Same with the distracting sour kisses.

“Go away,” Mosley muttered, brushing away from his partner and taking a screwdriver in his hands.

Helsby snorted and absolutely in an inhuman manner didn't cease his brazen occupation. He climbed under Mosley's arms, looked at him with a serious glance for a few seconds, smacked his lips and then retreated faster than the light. Only in order to return again in five minutes. When Mosley had _finally_ fed up with this, he grabbed the scientist by the scruff and dragged him towards, looking tiredly at his… glasses.

“What do you want from me?”

Ranjit grinned from ear to ear, not embarrassing by anything in this world.

“Only love, mate. Only love.”


	20. Mahogany | Sinnett/Jekyll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • top of head kisses.

Dragging everyone into the nearest pub, Archer had motivated it with the fact that they need to distract themselves well before the upcoming exhibition. It's unlikely that Dr. Jekyll would approve that – Sinnett had time to think exactly before he was pushed out into the darkness of the night, under the sky covered with the usual London smog. But of course, it was decided to keep in secret.

As a result, Sinnett found himself in a close and stuffy room, with a noisy company of rogue scientists by his side and an absolute misunderstanding of the situation. Helsby ordered them all drinks (to be honest, Sinnett had no idea what it was), and Archer brazenly took a guitar from some local musician and periodically strummed on it dramatically. Bird – who the Lodgers were able to lure here by some unseen miracle – was nodding in time with the strumming and sorted through the petals of one of his flowers, heaven knows why brought it with him. Mosley settled himself beside his partner – at work, and, perhaps, not only – and Griffin with Virginia kept themselves away, gloomily sipping from their mugs. It seemed that they were the only ones who discussed, directly, the exhibition. And the rest…

“Hey, Sinnett, are you going to catch someone in your life?”

… were doing the same as always. Sinnett sighed. Archer's arrogant pestering had managed to exhaust him enough in the Society, but obviously, he wasn't going to finish with this case. Apparently, Mr. Botanical clockwork engineer decided to marry his precious friend off to anyone – at any price, and as soon as possible. Because the number of his puns on this topic had grown simply to impossibility.

“Don't bother the lad, Archie,” Helsby waved his hand, chuckling in his cup. “He's too young for all this.”

“Tut-Tut!” Archer protested, strumming more actively. “It's all dogs flapdoodle, he lives with us for two years and for all this time hasn't found anyone for himself. How is this even possible?”

“And you've decided to find everyone a couple?” Ranjit stretched in a smile. “Then how about starting with yourself? There are two, sitting there, potential” he pointed a finger directly at Virginia and Griffin “applicants.”

The next scene before Sinnett's eyes was a spitting curses and waving his guitar Mr. Archer, squealing and fleeing Mr. Helsby and idly smiling Mr. Bird, stroking his mustache and beard.

 

That's only Sinnett had _someone_! Sinnett had Miss Flowers gentle smiles. Sinnett had a strong supportive hand of Pennebrygg. Sinnett had Luckett's friendly jokes. And of course, Sinnett had a non-burning adoration for Dr. Jekyll. Perhaps if fate would've turned out differently, he would be noticed. Perhaps if everything went the other way he would've been rewarded with much more than a light kiss on the top of his head. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps… Dr. Jekyll pulled him out of the filthy streets, gave a new home and family, helped and supported in everything – but that's where their ways had parted.

 

“Are you fine?”

Sinnett flinched, turning to Ito who sat down near him. Around had established a relative silence – at least, the musicians decided to shut up and let the drunken heads get rested. Griffin was sitting next to Bird like a sparrow, drunkenly complaining to him about Archer. Who, by the way, had never returned, obviously continuing to pursue Helsby in the dawning streets. Mosley was confidently finishing his third or fourth mug of solid ale. And maybe it was time to go home.

“Thank you,” Sinnett smiled. “All's well.”

That's where their roads parted, but there was absolutely nothing to regret here.


	21. + Rainbow (Mr&Mrs Cantilupe, Maijabi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was too lazy to do it in script format, so it's a strange mix of rhyming dialogues and non-rhyming narration.

“Oh darling, place this – a complete mess,” Mr. Cantilupe, by the force of habit, wiped his nose with a handkerchief and jerked his dashingly twisted mustache.

Mrs. Cantilupe leaned her elbows on the railing of a marble, smoothly flowing down a staircase, and sighed languidly in agreement. Her husband used to come to the Society infrequently, but when he comes – his griffin eye looked out for everything that was necessary. And no one, and never, and nothing had remained unnoticed.

“Oh dear, you have a righty guess. Take my colleague as an example.” Mrs. waved her hand, pointing in a direction known only to her. “Lavender, the kindest woman I've known with, been watching poor girl Flowers for a long now, and frightened to confess her feels,” the woman shifted her glasses on her head and wiped a non-existent tear from her eyelashes.

Mr. Cantilupe sighed and shook his head disapprovingly.

“Honey, have not you tried get them together?”

“You insult me, Louis,” harrumphed Mrs. Cantilupe, putting on her glasses again. “I've tried all the world's ways in any weather. Bring them together miracle can only!”

“You're right… But what could pass as miracle for lonely?” The man thoughtfully bit his cheek and twirled the mustache.

A second later, Tweedy dashed under the stairs, with a fire extinguisher under his armpit, coming as if out of nowhere. Mrs. Cantilupe immediately stretched herself up and followed him with a long glance.

“Perhaps example of the others can be a push right then,” she said. “Perhaps I could convince Tweedy and Doddle to talk to them.”

Mr. Cantilupe nodded approvingly, continuing to twist the second mustache.

“Yes, darling. Not a bad idea. Can also ask you Bird and Bryson – over the cup of tea.”

The woman rounded her eyes. Truly her husband always notices everything.

“It's true, they are now too?”

“Long time already. Oh look, you didn't know this,” the man grinned. “How could you not to see the kiss?”

Mrs. Cantilupe rolled her eyes and put her hand to her head.

“And I can tell whom you could miss. Look,” and she pointed her finger at the running in the halls Helsby and Mosley, holding hands and hurrying in the same direction as Tweedy used to do.

Mr. Cantilupe wiped his nose again.

“You're right here, although it's obvious. But listen! Did you hear those Archer's lamentations? How is he?”

Here Mrs. Cantilupe sighed. For with situation she had tried to help fearlessly, but Archer was terribly stubborn and only groaned, and ached, and whined. And disturbed everyone at night.

“There I can give you good sensations – he and Virginia have finally begun to 'date' each other,” the woman waved fingers-quotes in the air.

“And Griffin?”

“I don't know. I've heard something another – he found someone and perhaps… Perhaps it is, oh how's he, Robert? But truly have no information, dear.”

Mr. Cantilupe sneezed. His wife, mistaking patting with the first aid, with full force beat him on the back with her fist, made him cough, and disapprovingly lowered her eyebrow behind the glasses. And from behind her ghostly swam out Mr. Maijabi, humming some delphic rhythm.

“Oh, dear Louis! You're here?”

“I had to,” Mr. finally cleared his throat, waving his wife away. “To see what's new to hear.”

On Maijabi's face appeared a sly grin, and he snorted, loudly and merrily.

“What's new? But what about newcomer, haven't wife told you yet?”

“Oh, if you please,” Mr. Cantilupe put her hands on her sides.

“My dear, I bet” Maijabi lifted his hands, defending himself “I was just joking. But the newcomer truly has appeared. And stole ours' Rachel's heart as'f mocking.”

“And promptly?” inquired Mr. Cantilupe, raising an eyebrow.

“For a second!”

“Let ask me, what's with Mr. Luckett?”

“Oh, do not worry,” the woman interrupted their conversation. “He succeeded. Sinnett looks happy, I've reckoned. At least that's what I am believe in.”

“And Pennebrygg?”

“Unfortunately, lonely.”

Mr. Cantilupe scratched his chin and cast a gloomy look down.

“So he's the next goal only… But wait… What about Dr. Jekyll?”

Doctor Maijabi absolutely cunningly grinned and turned away, looking around the hall extending in front of him. Mrs. Cantilupe took her husband's hand and shook her head gently.

“And Dr. Jekyll... very dearly he loves himself, so that is clearly.”

Oh, the Society for Arcane Sciences was full of mysteries. And the biggest among them was love.


End file.
